“Daddy… is she mad at you?”
Jack didn’t look away from the woman. “It’s alright, Peanut. Just stay there.”
The woman staggered to her feet, slipping once before catching herself. She fumbled in her soaked bag, pulling out a sleek black phone—dead. She slapped the screen like it had personally betrayed her.
“Of course,” she snapped. “Perfect. Just perfect.”
Jack slowly stood, hands raised slightly—not in fear, but in something close to disbelief.
“Ma’am,” he said evenly, “you were drowning.”
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